


The Nightmare (Not Really) Before Christmas (Actually Halloween)

by kxllington



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Andy and Joe are best wingmen tbh, First Kiss, Getting Together, Halloween, M/M, fuck I'm kinda late, just read it its cute, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8438242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxllington/pseuds/kxllington
Summary: Brendon's hosting a Halloween party and Pete sees his perfect opportunity to tell Patrick how he feels about him. But, for some reason Patrick isn't there, but all of his friends keep pointing out the reaper hanging around....





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bishopsknifepatrick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishopsknifepatrick/gifts).



> So Megan and I decided to write some Halloween fics with matching plots! The plot was her idea, so make sure you read hers too. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

"So, are you and Patrick gonna do a couple's costume tonight?" Joe smirked, waggling his eyebrows. Andy threw his head back, laughing. Pete scowled at the two vehemently, crossing his arms. It was Halloween, and the band had decided to attend a big party being thrown at Brendon's that night. Of course, that just meant more ridicule from Joe and Andy over what he would be.

"Yeah, you could dress up as a royal family because he's your handsome prince!" Andy guffawed. Pete tried not to let his frown dissolve into a smile.

"Fuck off, guys. Besides, I'm being Jack Skellington, if he would be anything matching he'd be Sally. But that's not happening, he'd kill me." The bassist muttered, unable to hide his smirk any longer. He dropped his head, hiding his face from view.

"Aww c'mon, Pete, you can't deny your little crush on Rick." Joe replied, tone suddenly serious. Pete looked up at the younger man, who was leaning forward to face him better. "All three of us know you wanna get some. They say anything can happen on Halloween night, maybe it'll be something good." He said, shrugging. Pete stared at him, eyebrows raised.

"I refuse to confirm or deny that I have a 'crush' on Patrick, you can go fuck yourself." Pete said, flipping the guitarist the bird. Andy laughed loudly again, causing Pete to start smiling again. Suddenly, his smile fell, and he glanced around the room, confused. "Where is he, anyway?"

"He'd said something about buying a costume? I don't know, he kinda just left." Andy said, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Pete blanked.

"Brendon told us this party was happening at the beginning of the month, but he's still waited until the last possible second." The bassist groaned, dropping his head again. Joe chuckled, waving it off.

"Ehh, he's Patrick. I'm sure he's got it covered, he'll be there." Joe reassured him. As if on cue, Michael Jackson's Thriller blared in Pete's pocket. Pulling out his phone, the bassist's frown deepened.

_Trickyyyy: I'll meet you guys at Brendon and Sarah's ;))_

"What'd he say?" Andy asked. Pete read off the text quickly, disappointment evident in his voice. Grumpily, he shoved his phone back into his jeans. Joe gave him a small smile, ignoring the vibration of his own phone in his pocket.

"He'll be there, man." Pete smiled back, suspicion and worry clouding grey in his eyes. They only got darker as Joe peeked at his phone, then swiped at his mouth to hide a smirk.

///////

"Where is he?" Pete whined, resisting the urge to swipe a hand down his face. Joe turned back to face him from the front seat, ridiculous Slash top hat swaying with the movement.

"Probably in costume, dumbass! We won't recognize him from the damn car, let's go inside. He's probably already in there." The guitarist said, undoing his seatbelt. Andy, taking the cue, undid his seatbelt and grabbed his toy lightsaber. His Luke Skywalker robes swished as he slid out of the driver's seat. Agitated, Pete muttered curses at Joe under his breath and started to climb out of the car. The wire in his bow tie jabbed him in the side of his face as he awkwardly stumbled out of the vehicle.

They started towards the house, walking up the extravagant lawn. Inside the house, music was blaring, and chatter could be heard already from behind the door. It became near deafening as they stepped inside.

"I'm gonna go find the liquor!" Joe yelled over the din of the party. Pete smirked, then nodded, sending the guitarist on his merry way. As Joe left, Andy returned to his side.

"Should I follow him?" The drummer asked, a knowing smile already on his face. The bassist chuckled, ducking his head as he did.

"Yeah." Pete responded, grinning as he watched the top hat bouncing further into the crowd of musicians. Nodding, Andy drew out his lightsaber, flicking it on and used it to part the crowd as he walked. The older man laughed again, watching Andy disappear to wherever Joe was going. As soon as his friends were out of sight, his demeanour changed.

It time to find Patrick, because if that little shit wasn't there, Pete would skin him alive.

Pete's brow was furrowed, creasing his makeup slightly as his eyes darted around the house, scouring for Patrick. The New Politics kids were off in one corner near the door, dressed as Super Mario characters with red solo cups already in hand. Max came running up to them, a huge smile on his face as he showed off his pizza costume. Pete smirked a little, but continued on his way.

Travie walked past, decked out in a full Teletubby costume (no doubt stolen from Pete, seeing as it was a little on the small side), and Pete decided a small chat wouldn't hurt. His attention was still on searching every partygoer that passed by, however.

"You lookin' for someone?" Travie asked, a small smirk on his face.

"Yeah, actually. Patrick." Pete replied, wiping his palms ( _why were they sweating?_ ) on his jeans. Crossing his arms, Travie looked down at the bassist, hip cocked.

"Gonna smear your makeup all over his face?" The rapper asked, "And other places, too?" Travie winked, and Pete smacked him arm, though there was no venom behind it.

"Shut the fuck up, man. I just wanted to make sure he's here, that's all." The bassist said, thankful he was wearing makeup to hide his blush. Travie smiled again, clapping a hand on Pete's shoulder.

"Well, I haven't seen him. But, I think you'll be interested in that," Travie bent down and pointed towards Brendon and Sarah's couch, where four people were perched, deep in conversation. Confused, Pete turned narrowed eyes to the rapper.

"Twenty One Pilots? Really?" The older man deadpanned. He glanced back at the couch again, where Josh, Tyler and Jenna were talking to a fourth figure. The three were dressed as the main characters from Supernatural, excitedly chattering with the fourth. Travie groaned, readjusting his gesture.

"No, idiot, the other one. Nobody has any clue who they are, and they aren't giving their name." Travie explained. Pete tutted, staring down at the ground for a moment.

"Well, I'm always up to make a friend." Pete said, forcing a grin. Travie smiled back, clapping Pete on the back before wandering off. The bassist sighed dramatically, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He did not want to deal with any rando off the street tonight, he just wanted to find Patrick, and hang out with him and maybe hug him a little and make fun of his costume lovingly and—

The pump of the music seemed to be getting to him, and he decided now would be a good time to take a "bathroom break", before he got approached again.

Slipping wordlessly into Brendon and Sarah's upstairs bathroom, Pete groaned with relief. The door clicked shut softly and he locked it, effectively cutting off most of the party sound. Cha Cha Slide had just started to play over all of the speakers, and he heard people heading downstairs to join in the stupid dance. Bracing his hands on the counter, he stared into his own eyes.

He wanted to find Patrick. That much he knew. He just didn't know why he wanted to find Patrick. Okay, that was a total fucking lie. He knew. He was pretty sure Andy and Joe knew, too, judging by their earlier teasing. And Travie. And probably Tyler, Josh and Jenna. He was pretty sure everyone and their mom knew.

He was in love with him.

" _Fuck_." Pete muttered, dropping his head. The last place he was expecting to have this conversation with himself was in Brendon and Sarah's bathroom at a Halloween party while everyone was doing the Cha Cha Slide drunkenly downstairs. He sighed.

He knew why he wanted to find Patrick now, but why did he want to find Patrick now? Why at a Halloween party? Would the skeleton makeup make him more confident? Would having music blaring around them cover up any confession he might make? Pull a Jack and Sally? Did he just want to get wasted so he could tell Patrick how he felt and forget it later? What the fuck was he even thinking?

Sufficiently confused and angry with himself, Pete frowned at his reflection. Whatever, he'd just have fun anyway and not think about any of this ever again. Nodding curtly, he unlocked the bathroom door and flung it open. Leaning against the wall on the other side was the fourth figure from the couch.

A reaper.

How ironic, as Pete was just thinking of something of equal damnation to death.

"Oh sorry, were you waiting?" Pete asked, almost flustered. The reaper waved him off, shrugging a shoulder.

"Didn't even know there was a bathroom there, no worries. I just wanted to get away from the shitshow downstairs." They replied with a chuckle. Pete was taken aback by the voice that came out. They had some sort of modifier, making it deep and robotic. Cool.

"Oh, alright." Pete said, shrugging. They stood in silence for a moment, Pete lingering awkwardly in the bathroom door jamb. The mask that the reaper had on was seemingly staring at him, almost expectant. Abruptly, the bassist cleared his throat.

"You wanna, um...you wanna go grab a drink?" He stuttered, wiping his palms against his slacks again. The reaper nodded.

"Sure, let's go." They said, smile evident in their voice. Smiling, Pete led the way downstairs.

Working their way through the crowd, the reaper followed Pete to the kitchen, where a mini bar of sorts was set up. Around it, Brendon, Sarah and Dallon were conversing, laughing with each other. Dallon's helmet was in his hands, and his Captain America shield sat on the island. Brendon and Sarah were dressed as The Joker and Harley Quinn from Suicide Squad, Brendon's arm draped casually over his wife's shoulders. Their chatter stopped as Pete and the reaper approached.

"Hey Pete, hey P— _oough_!" Brendon began. Sarah's elbow dug into his chest immediately, silencing him. Brow furrowing, Pete stared at the trio.

"...Hey." The older man said, tone almost worried. Dallon just smiled, before clearing his throat. He pulled out his phone, pulling a surprised look.

"Spencer is outside, we should go and meet him!" Dallon exclaimed, staring hard at Brendon and Sarah. Sarah immediately got the drift, smiling at Pete and the reaper knowingly.

"Yeah, _totally_ ," She said, grabbing her husband's hand, "Come on, B, let's go meet up with Spencer." Brendon looked confused, full lips pulling a pout.

"Wha— _oh_ , right!" Realization dawned on the singer, and he allowed himself to be pulled away by his wife. Pete followed their movement until they disappeared into the sea of people.

"Well that was weird." He muttered, turned back to the reaper. They had already poured them drinks. They handed bassist an orange screwdriver. His favourite. It was like they knew. After another beat of silence, Pete figured it best to strike up conversation.

"So, how do you know the Uries?" The older man asked, leaning against the counter. The repeat shrugged again, setting their untouched drink in front of them.

"I've known Brendon since he was seventeen," They said, voice like gravel. Pete nodded, tapping his fingers against his cup. "Why're you here? You seem pretty distracted." The reaper asked. Startled, Pete turned his head sharply to face the other person.

"Oh, u-uh... I'm in Fall Out Boy, and I've been looking for our singer, Patrick, all night," Pete explained. "I don't really know why I've been searching so hard, though..." The bassist lied. The reaper's mask fixed him with a cold, dead stare.

"From the way you said that, I think you do know." The reaper said. Sighing, Pete stared down into his orange screwdriver. Yeah, this person was a total stranger, but what did he have to lose in baring his soul?

"Yeah...I think I love him," Pete admitted, "I love him a whole fucking lot. I still don't know why I thought tonight would be a good night to tell him, but I just got so excited about being in costume and dancing and having fun and eventually heading back home and maybe him spending the night and I—" Pete cut himself off suddenly. "Sorry, you probably don't wanna hear that." Pete murmured, ashamed. The reaper shrugged once again.

"How long have you liked him?" They asked, almost hesitantly. Pete huffed a breathy laugh.

"Forever. I was hoping this was gonna be some Jack and Sally type shit, where I'd see him here and seduce him or something but he's not anywhere and I feel like an idiot because I got my hopes up so high and he isn't even here." Pete said, dejectedly. The reaper turned to face him completely, then brought their hands up to the hood and mask. Pulling the two off in one go, they revealed themself. Pete could only gawk.

It was Patrick.

"I knew it." Patrick said softly. The music in the background turned into static as Pete realized what he'd just done. Face reddening beneath his makeup, Pete shook his head. Tears sprang to his eyes and he dropped his orange screwdriver, the drink splashing up onto his slacks and his dress shoes. The singer's eyes never left his.

"P-Patrick, _fuck_ , I—" Pete stuttered, unable to breathe. He started moving backwards on shaky legs. He knew, he knew now, everything was ruined, oh no, he shouldn't have done that, oh shit, oh _**fuck**_ —

" _Pete_." Patrick said, grabbing the bassist's arm quickly before he could run. Pete gulped, not meeting the younger man's eyes. He watched carefully as Patrick abandoned his mask on the counter, freeing his other hand to hold onto Pete's other arm. Patrick bent to meet his eyes, concerned. "Pete." He repeated, more firmly.

"What?" Pete asked dumbly, voice thick.

"I knew it." Patrick said, laughing this time. He grinned at Pete, shaking his arms a little as he hopped onto the balls of his feet. "All this time, I could've known, and I'm really sorry I resorted to this to find out the truth because it wasn't very kind of me and stuff and it was kind of an invasion of privacy if you know what I mean, but now I _know_ , and—!" Pete finally met the singer's cheery gaze, cutting off his ramble. The singer stopped himself, clearing his throat. "What I mean is, this can still be that Jack and Sally type shit you wanted." Patrick's expression softened, and he sighed almost dreamily.

Pete's world seemed to stop for all of three seconds before he threw himself at Patrick Stump.

Immediately Pete found his lips, kissing him fervently. Patrick inhaled sharply, meeting his passion quickly as he fisted his hands in the bassist's suit jacket. The party faded to white noise around them. Pete's world narrowed to the crash and slide of their lips and the gentle tongue begging him for entrance. He complied, sighing softly as he was backed up into the island. Everything felt magical, just like Pete had thought it would.

Then the moment was dashed by a ridiculous top hat and lightsaber poking around the corner.

"YO, BRENDON! TRAVIE! WE FUCKIN' DID IT!" Joe shouted at the top of his lungs. Pete and Patrick broke apart in shock, heads snapping towards the kitchen entrance. Andy and Joe were peering around the door jamb, grinning like fools. Patrick laughed under his breath, looking down at the floor. Pete frowned.

"What did they do?" Pete asked, confused. Patrick looked back up at him, sheepishly.

"A while ago, Andy and Joe noticed that I really liked you and you liked me back, so they came up with this. Me, dressing as a reaper, I mean," Patrick explained. "And then they told Brendon...and Sarah...and Dallon, and Travie, and Josh, Tyler and Jenna—"

"I get it, 'Trick," Pete laughed, cutting the singer off. He heard whoops of joy coming from the living room, and Brendon's voice came over the din of the rest of the guests. The bassist just chuckled again, leaning back further onto the counter. He looked at Patrick again, grinning at how his own makeup was smeared all over the younger man's mouth. Patrick smirked, readjusting Pete's bat bow tie.

"So you're not mad? That we were technically lying to you and stuff?" Patrick asked, seemingly nervous. Pete watched as Joe and Andy ambled away, snickering about how they were geniuses, before smiling warmly at the singer.

"Nah, it's fine. I don't mind," Pete said, waving Patrick's concerns off. "And besides, while Andy and Joe are probably winning bets right now, I won something better." The singer flushed, laughing as he smacked Pete's arm lightly.

"I'm not a prize to be won, asshole," Patrick muttered, pressing his face into Pete's shoulder. Pete brought a hand to Patrick's back, rubbing softly.

"No, you're not, you're right." He said, softly, "But you are mine. The Sally to my Jack, if you will." The older man smirked devilishly, cupping Patrick's jaw and pulling his face close to his own. "And I wanna undo your stitches in the upstairs bathroom." Patrick guffawed, throwing his head back.

"Fuck you!" Patrick laughed.

"That's the plan!" Pete replied. The singer smirked at Pete before he grabbed his mask again, pulling it over his head and dragging the bassist up the stairs again. It wasn't really Jack and Sally's song, but Pete thought it was an amazing ending all the same.


End file.
